An Awkward Conversation
by Black-Librarian Skirath
Summary: Slaanesh receives a most unwelcome guest while basking within her domain. Reviews appreciate, feedback adored.


_Hello, long time no see. I hath returned from the land of spells and fairies. I won't leave a long message, since you're here for the fic and not me. I'm sorry for not keeping my one fic a month promise from before, but stuff kind of came up. I've been continuing my endeavors into the realm of professional writing, and its been kind of difficult to break into the market. So I'm exploring some new stuff and seeing how it goes. Anyways, while I continue to work on that I'll be posting up stuff here far more often. I don't want to promise any strict amount since I don't want to disappoint anyone, but I hope I bring you all some more laughs and some more entertainment. As always reviews are greatly appreciate, hope you like this one._

The serpent coiled in the ether. It basked in the heat generated by the passions of another realm, the stringent one of reality. How delicious, it thought. Out there was a finite world, full of fleshy beasts that could hardly understand the pleasures it could offer. It flexed its scaly yet smooth body, simply to feel some sensation in this moment of contemplation. It was a creature of thought, of emotions. It was born from the excesses of a race nearly as old as the stars themselves, and its birth cry had destroyed a civilization that spanned a galaxy. What a delight that had been...

The serpent could feel the other realm, even if the anathema tried to stop it. It uncoiled itself and began to glide forward like an eel in some unknown abyss. All around it were lights, each unique in shade and intensity. Its children flocked around these glowing orbs, sending a small thrill through its form as they offered their love, praise, and fear in equal measures. At one point, in a more... innocent age, the serpent would have savored its spawn's attention. That was long, long ago however, and in this brutal age the devotion of prostrated legions was both familiar and dull.

It required more now, an indulgence so unique that it would satisfy its ever growing need for sensory input and touch new parts of is cyclopean consciousness. It turned to the glowing lights, savoring their immediate form within the warp once again.

Its black eyes, so much like long dead stars, glittered for a moment as it thought. It lifted its head, letting out a lascivious sigh. New lights were born from this action, from this god's breath. Even from this dark, forbidden corner of the Warp the God-Serpent's slightest move sent madness and perversion into the material realm. The minds of the weak or susceptible were filled with uncontrollable urges. The dead eyes took in its new creations, seeing what wanton acts of debauchery it had inspired.

A poet, poor and cursed with an addiction to the rather mundane drug of obscura, is filled with sudden passion. He pens a ballad unlike anything he has ever created, one whose popularity would spread through his native hive city and engulf the artistic community of the entire world. His new found fame lifts him up from the dirt and grime of the underhive and into the arms of high society. There his tastes would shift away from obscura to more exotic narcotics. Through his states of delirium he would touch upon his new patron again and again, spreading the dark faith through his words and lyrics.

Half the Segmentum away an Imperial Governor awakens in a cold sweat. He calls forth his servants, screaming about something tearing his insides apart. Doctor after doctor is brought to try and cure him of his agony, but each fails. Even a number Magi Biologis are unable to discover what is troubling him. The only thing that seems to relieve the Governor's pain is food. As the weeks pass and turn into months his curse grows worse, finally forcing him to consume constantly. Eventually, through some biologic or psychological shift he grows to enjoy the act of filling his stomach. As his size grows so does the concern of his loved ones for him however. Eventually his wife, who stood beside him for countless decades, confronts him about his disturbing habits. The next day he invites various nobles and tradesmen of his world to his vast palace for a truly special feast. At the center of the massive dining table sits a silver platter with a shining cover. When every guest is finally seated the Lord-Governor says nothing. With a snap of his pudgy fingers he summons a very solemn servant. This servant lifts the lid of the silver plate, revealing the mutilated and slightly roasted corpse of the Governor's wife. One can't help but note that her limbs have already been gnawed upon slightly. With a grunt he orders the assembled aristocracy to eat, thus starting the first of what would be many dark feasts that would take place on the planet.

On yet another world, closer to a minor warp storm of considerable power, a young girl reaches the age of womanhood. She is the daughter of a chieftain leading the largest and most bloodthirsty tribe upon the feral jungle world they called home. This was a people enthralled by another god, one of brutality and warfare. Still, the whispers of the Dark Prince slithered their way into the girl's receptive mind. She was unlike others; she was a breed of humanity which the followers of the Skull-Lord reviled. Psyker... Had her powers manifested sooner she no doubt would have been gutted on the spot, or worse yet been noticed by another darker power. Now she was enthralled by the serpent, and her lust for dominance and sensation had been set aflame. Using her own beauty, now enhanced to unnatural levels by her raw power, she lures the youngest of the tribe's warriors deep into the jungle. There, spurred by the voices of daemonic deviants, she instills her own urges into them. With her thralls amassed she waits until night, travelling to the village under an auspicious violet moon. Once there they go on a murderous rampage of mutilation and violation. As this horrid betrayal reaches its zenith the new Warrior-Princess of that savage land pulled the still beating heart from her father's ribcage, releasing a throaty benediction that would ring out through the world for centuries to come.

"Slon'a'unesh!"

The Serpent reveled in these horrors, watching them spawn and unfold in a comparative matter of moments. These lights were a welcomed addition to its collection, and it would enjoy seeing how their material causes developed.

But it still stirred restlessly, craving to alleviate a yearning that even it could not quite fathom. It began searching through the other lights once more, searching for something new, something unexpected. The hunt was proving quite fruitless however. True enough, it came across a myriad of indulgences and unholy revelries that would have once enraptured it, but one can only look at the heart of a titan war engine burst into a display of noise and sound so many times before it lost its allure.

It was just about to give up, to retreat into itself so that it might plot and scheme new kinds of perversions to unleash upon the Galaxy, when it found it. A ball of light floated some distance away and with a thought the Serpent approached it, absorbing every single detail it held. It was unlike other lights, as its colors swirled and shifted like the stuff of the Warp itself. It exuded a hellish light that intensified and cooled in a rhythmic cycle that was not unlike a heartbeat. The Serpent's consciousness crawled its way into this light in order to find its source, and when it had it… Oh, such elation.

Within the orb was a truly twisted, sadistic, and maddening display of excess, one that enraptured the Serpent in a way nothing had in centuries. It held onto this moment, wringing out as much pleasure as it could from the new experience. How long could this feeling last, it wondered. The answer was obvious, as long as the material source of this light persisted, which from the looks of it would not be long. It settled in, savoring the moment as though its life depended upon i-

Something was wrong. The Serpent rose sharply, immediately agitated at feeling any form of disturbance at this critical moment. There was something on the edges of its realm, a presence of some form. True enough, it constantly felt the sting of invading god-spawn and the relief of its own children expanding its territory within the Warp. This was different; this was a force which its soldiers could not possibly stop. The worst part of it though was that it was continuing to move into its realm, leaving a gnawing breach in the border that seemed to grow like a festering wound.

A festering wound…

The Serpent realized what this presence was and felt a fiery lance of rage surge through it. Its rage only grew worse as it realized that this intruder was approaching it like a typhoon of psychic energy. All around it were the cries and screeches of its children. Demonic throats were rendered raw and bloody by a multitude of colorful curses, and each swore to tear into the enemies of their god with as much enthusiasm as they could muster. None of the lesser beings dared to follow through on these promises of retribution however, for they would be snuffed out in an instant by the colossal being moving towards them. So they sat and watched, enraptured by one of the rare moments when two gods of the Warp met face to face.

The Serpent rose as lithe, sinuous limbs began growing from its body. Black claws and talons emerged from these new appendages and brightly colored venom began to pour from the god-serpent's jaws. When the transformation was complete it resembled an androgynous, reptilian creature of alien origin. It stood defiantly as one of its rivals rushed forwards, never flinching or considering retreat.

From the infinite plains of madness came a being that was nearly the opposite of the Serpent. Where it was lithe, dark, and strangely enticing the intruder was grotesque, bloated to the extreme, and covered in multi-colored fungus. Bizarre, demonic flies buzzed around the creature's antlered head, forming a black halo. Boils and pustules riddled its hide, and the Serpent couldn't help but notice one burst without any warning. The pus from this wound flew and splattered against one of the many lights surrounding the two gods, causing a perfectly good orgy to be flooded with flesh eating maggots that reduced the participants to walking corpses. The light flashed green and sputtered out as it died, no doubt making room for a new trinket in the decayed god's realm.

The intruder's sunken, yellow eyes fixed upon the Serpent. Time passed as the two stood in silence. It could have been a few seconds, or perhaps an eon, none could say. The Serpent was the first to speak.

"What in the name of the Warp is this, Nurgle?" It shouted, its voice distinctly feminine.

Nurgle's eyes became hooded, and he began to chew a fatty strip of carrion flesh he had in his mouth. Where this meat came from was a mystery, though Slaanesh assumed that it was from his own gums. "There is something we must discuss, my sibling…"

Slaanesh's dark eyes darted to the light that had moments before fascinated it, and irritation visibly rippled through its form. "Can this wait? Unless you're starting another war I have something more pressing that requires my undivided attention."

"No, I have no desire to increase the conflict between us at this time. Tzeentch's flock are pressing against my borders currently, and Khorne's dogs are as belligerent as ever."

"Then why are you here?" Slaanesh screeched.

Nurgle looked away for a moment, some unknown emotion flashing across his gelatinous form. "It's… an embarrassing matter, admittedly."

The light flickered for a moment, filling Slaanesh with dread. "Out with it Nurgle, now is not a good time!"

Nurgle blinked and then took a deep breath. "I've… been speaking to some of my plague bearers, seems there's been some fraternization with your daemonettes…"

Something like that was not news to Slaanesh. Out of all the denizens of the Empyrean the daemonettes were without a doubt the most promiscuous. Even creatures of pure bloodshed and malice were known to weaken at the touch of some of Slaanesh's more blessed children.

"So what?" Slaanesh hissed. "If you have an issue with it handle it yourself!"

"I'm not upset that it happened, my sibling. I'm upset about what I discovered from one of the plague bearers involved. You see… Umm, how to put this… delicately…"

If Slaanesh had hair at that moment she probably would have yanked it out to vent the frustration. "Out with it you giant, bleeding canker!"

"He got an STD." Nurgle croaked. "And… I've never seen it before…"

Slaanesh's eyes widened. "W… What?"

"Somehow one of my demons contracted a disease by… congregating with one of yours, and I have no idea how."

"Nurgle I… Wait, congregating?"

"It's a legitimate term for what they did!" Nurgle said with narrowed eyes. "I'm assuming…"

Slaanesh gritted her teeth, which was difficult considering their needle like shape. "Look, I… I don't know how that could have happened, okay? I don't dabble in diseases, that's your shtick. Daemonettes get around though, maybe one of them caught it from an astartes or-"

"You say that as though I don't keep tabs on all ailments afflicting those hyper-evolved monkeys! You and I need to figure this out, since you're somewhat involved! Why… I bet this was one of Tzeentch's tricks!"

Slaanesh's favored light flickered again, and she could not help but notice that it was beginning to dim. "Y-Yeah, that's probably it! The nerdy bastard is always trying to put one over on you!"

"Damn it… you're right. What should we do?" Nurgle spat frantically, sending acidic spittle flying from his repulsive maw.

Slaanesh pointed dramatically back at the direction Nurgle came from. "He's probably trying something right now! Trying to ruin your things, no doubt!"

Nurgle gasped. "My fungus pools!"

"Hurry before his flamers set fire to the whole fungal forest!" Slaanesh shrieked with what, to her credit, seemed like genuine alarm.

After that Nurgle was gone, rushing back to his own realm with the same speed he had approached with. Flies and more exotic forms of cadaverous creatures lingered in the space where he once occupied, but they would fade in time.

Truth be told Slaanesh couldn't care less about this STD nonsense. What did she care if a plague bearer caught a new form of crotch rot? Her attention was a far more precious commodity than that, and now that her unwanted guest was gone she could spend said commodity on what had been denied from her moments before.

She lunged back to her favored light, eager to savor the horrifically pleasurable delights it held. When she looked into it to see its material cause once more however there was… nothing. All that was left were tired and ruined bodies. The climax had been reached, and she had missed it.

Slaanesh sat there for a moment in absolute silence, dumbstruck by what she felt. There was a word mortals had for that feeling, what was it again?

Disappointment…

Then came denial. "N-No… I… I can recreate that act… I…" That passed quickly, as Slaanesh knew that she hadn't the patience at the moment to re-enact such a complex atrocity. Perhaps in time, but for now she would have to suffer through this… disappointment.

There would be no acceptance of this unfortunate happenstance. All there would be was anger, and that was something Slaanesh was capable of feeling in excess. The warp began to ripple with the energy of a god's wrath, and a single piercing roar rose above all else in Slaanesh's realm.

"NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURGLE!"


End file.
